миша ласточкин - ангелы смерти
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миша ласточкин - ангелы смерти - оригинальный текст песни, перевод, видео
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Разломленная надвое плотина.
Один из нас похож на стихотворца,
другой похож на сгорбленного горца,
в чьих лапах тлеет мелкая лучина.
Жди мартиролог! Вот и подождали.
Пускай зима в осьмнадцатые дали
летит, весна – в заоблачные выси.
Привет от щуки сухопутной крысе.
Но рыбок золотых зато до кучи
нам будет после, круча круче кручи,
гора одна другой горы отвесней.
В чём разница меж тишиной и песней?
А также криком помощи, а также
молчанием на месте всех домишек
(один другого был малоэтажней)?
Слизнула тьма воды жилой излишек
в один момент. С жильцами и гостями,
со всеми их страстями и горстями
любви и гнева, с их отжившим хламом,
с колбасной лавкой, с кладбищем и храмом.
Типичный случай, хроника рутины,
из космоса так не увидеть вовсе.
Но предостережения в вопросе
проезжего для сей худой плотины
не сослужили службы. Целых десять,
иль даже двадцать (некому повесить
на стену календарь) недель искали
причину, так и не нашли – пропали.
Составим опись! Ты пройдись вдоль ряда
всех новеньких могил. Собой порядок
они венчают геометрией ad verbum
с контрастностью склонённой вербы.
Но в этот завоёванный сухими
стадами букв и опоздавших цифр
мир трепетный с прогнозами плохими
внесём и мы свой грустный личный шифр.
А именно – пройдёмся, оглядимся,
на месте познакомимся, простимся.
Вот, собственно, и всё. Ведь не впервой нам
куплеты посвящать смертям и войнам.
Гремят раскаты – не лавин, не моря,
а поезда, что мчится, словно тризну
поёт своей трубой, не в укоризну
внимающим, а как свидетель горя.
И выше гор подъят его текучий
дрожащий дым, летящий чёрной тучей.
И лодка одинокая мерцает
в далёком море. И свирель играет
у пастуха. И вообще – всё так же,
как было до. Не скажешь, что однажды
вода, как будто вспомнив плети Ксеркса,
решила отомстить, и – словно в сердце
ножом – в плотину врезалась. Бывает.
А ты, мой друг, шутить изволь чуть позже,
когда уйдём! Здесь ветер не срывает
бельё с верёвки. Тишина. И всё же,
всё же… Каждый раз – как первый,
не сердце ноет, а скорее нервы.
Ведь даже нас, сменивших грязный китель
на нимб, не посещает небожитель.
Flosened twist.
One of us is similar to the poem,
another look like a sloped mountain
In whose paws a small miley is smoldering.
Wait for a martyrologist! So waited.
Let winter in the axle gave
Flies, spring - in the translated cast.
Hello from the pussy of the land rat.
But goldfish of gold but to heap
We will be after, steep steeper,
Mountain one other mountains shepherd.
What is the difference between silence and song?
As well as a cry of help, as well as
silence at the place of all houses
(Alone was low-rise)?
Slide the darkness of water residential surplus
at one moment. With residents and guests,
with all their passions and handles
love and anger, with their unzipped trash,
With sausage bench, with a cemetery and temple.
Typical case, chronicle of routine,
From space so not to see at all.
But caution in the question
driving for this thin dam
Do not served service. Whole ten
Il even twenty (no one hang
on the wall calendar) weeks searched
The reason was not found - they disappeared.
Make an inventory! You walk along the row
All new graves. By itself order
They are crowned with ad Verbum geometry
With the contrast of the pronounced willow.
But this conquered dry
flocks of letters and late numbers
The world is trembling with predictions bad
We will introduce our sad personal cipher.
Namely - go, look looked around
In place we will get acquainted, I will say.
Here, actually, and that's it. After all, not the first to us
Purchases to devote to deaths and wars.
Rudded risks - not avalanche, not the sea,
And trains, which rushes, as if TRIZNU
sings with your pipe, not in the ukroris
Attention, but as the witness grief.
And above the mountains are lifting his flowing
Shivering smoke flying black clouds.
And the boat is lonely shimmer
In the distant sea. And the sweater is playing
In the shepherd. And in general - everything is the same
As it was before. You can not say that one day
Water, as if recalling Xerx's screens,
decided to take revenge and - as if in the heart
a knife - crashed into the dam. It happens.
And you, my friend, joke apart from a little later,
When we leave! Here the wind does not break
Lingerie from rope. Silence. But still,
yet ... every time - as the first,
Not a heart whirlpool, but rather nerves.
After all, even we, I changed the dirty nod
On the Nimb, does not attend celestial.
One of us is similar to the poem,
another look like a sloped mountain
In whose paws a small miley is smoldering.
Wait for a martyrologist! So waited.
Let winter in the axle gave
Flies, spring - in the translated cast.
Hello from the pussy of the land rat.
But goldfish of gold but to heap
We will be after, steep steeper,
Mountain one other mountains shepherd.
What is the difference between silence and song?
As well as a cry of help, as well as
silence at the place of all houses
(Alone was low-rise)?
Slide the darkness of water residential surplus
at one moment. With residents and guests,
with all their passions and handles
love and anger, with their unzipped trash,
With sausage bench, with a cemetery and temple.
Typical case, chronicle of routine,
From space so not to see at all.
But caution in the question
driving for this thin dam
Do not served service. Whole ten
Il even twenty (no one hang
on the wall calendar) weeks searched
The reason was not found - they disappeared.
Make an inventory! You walk along the row
All new graves. By itself order
They are crowned with ad Verbum geometry
With the contrast of the pronounced willow.
But this conquered dry
flocks of letters and late numbers
The world is trembling with predictions bad
We will introduce our sad personal cipher.
Namely - go, look looked around
In place we will get acquainted, I will say.
Here, actually, and that's it. After all, not the first to us
Purchases to devote to deaths and wars.
Rudded risks - not avalanche, not the sea,
And trains, which rushes, as if TRIZNU
sings with your pipe, not in the ukroris
Attention, but as the witness grief.
And above the mountains are lifting his flowing
Shivering smoke flying black clouds.
And the boat is lonely shimmer
In the distant sea. And the sweater is playing
In the shepherd. And in general - everything is the same
As it was before. You can not say that one day
Water, as if recalling Xerx's screens,
decided to take revenge and - as if in the heart
a knife - crashed into the dam. It happens.
And you, my friend, joke apart from a little later,
When we leave! Here the wind does not break
Lingerie from rope. Silence. But still,
yet ... every time - as the first,
Not a heart whirlpool, but rather nerves.
After all, even we, I changed the dirty nod
On the Nimb, does not attend celestial.
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